


An Earful

by gaslightgallows (hearts_blood)



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gossip, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-13
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2019-01-16 20:18:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12349935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hearts_blood/pseuds/gaslightgallows
Summary: Dot has a thing or two to explain to Hugh about Miss Fisher and the Inspector. Written for the 2015 Phryne Ficathon.





	An Earful

**Author's Note:**

> Written for ‘Sarah’ (this is the only identifier I have, sorry!) for the prompt: “S2 or S3 – Dottie asks Hugh if he’s noticed anything different about the inspector. She is trying to hint that perhaps Phryne and Jack are more in love than ever. Hugh is somewhat clueless to it all, which Dottie finds incredible. She explains, very precisely, that their respective bosses are crazy about each other, and she expects him to provide gossip.”
> 
> Also hints of the prompt: “While walking in town with Jack and discussing details of a case, Phryne twists and sprains her ankle. Jack tends to her by assisting her, checking it out, and wrapping the ankle. Where each event occurs and what happens after that is up to the writer.”
> 
> The Reverend Mr. Fisher and his sisters are lovingly purloined from the novel version of _Murder on the Ballarat Train_. 
> 
> If you’re on Tumblr, please consider following me at [gaslightgallows.tumblr.com](http://gaslightgallows.tumblr.com) for more fic, reblogs about writing, and lots of randomness.

The desk phone rang sharply in the quiet station. “City South Police Station, Constable Collins speaking.” Hugh’s face lit up. “Yes, Inspector, Miss Williams is right here.”

Dot jumped up from the bench and the two of them put their ears to the phone’s receiver. “Yes, Inspector?”

Jack Robinson’s voice came crackling over the line. “Miss Fisher has had to make an unexpected detour. She twisted her ankle coming down a very suspect fire escape that she was repeatedly asked not to climb.”

“Oh!” Dot chewed her lower lip worriedly. “Is she all right?”

There were the sounds of a minor scuffle on the other end. “I’m perfectly _fine_ , Dot,” Miss Fisher insisted. “Jack’s just being an old mother hen.”

“Oh really?” Hugh could just imagine his boss’s expression at that. “So is that why you couldn’t even stand before I wrapped your ankle? Or put so little weight on it that I had to practically carry you to the car? Because I was being a wet hen?”

Miss Fisher apparently had no response to that, because when Inspector Robinson spoke again, his was the only voice on the line. “Miss Fisher kindly requests, Collins, that you escort Miss Williams home. We’ll be staying in Ballarat tonight.”

“Both of you?” Dot couldn’t keep the prim little note of concern from entering her voice. Hugh winced on his boss’s behalf, but the inspector seemed not to notice. 

“As it happens, Miss Fisher has some cousins in town. A Reverend Mr. Fisher and his sisters. They’ve very kindly offered to accommodate us both for the night. So long as Miss Fisher’s condition improves, we should return by late tomorrow morning.”

“No, we _will_ be home tomorrow, Dot,” Miss Fisher interjected. Hugh heard the inspector sigh. “My cousins are very good people, but I don’t want to put them out for a _moment_ longer than necessary.”

“Right you are, Miss,” said Dot, still looking concerned, but putting on a cheerful voice for her employer. “Good night, Miss.”

Hugh took the telephone back. “Any other orders, sir?”

“Yes. Clock off and go take Miss Williams to the pictures. That’s an order, Constable.”

“Yes, sir,” Hugh grinned. “See you in the morning, sir.” He hung up the phone and looked at his sweetheart expectantly. “I’ve been ordered to take you out on the town, Dottie,” he said, pretending to sound resigned. “I think we can get tickets to ‘The Thief of Baghdad,’ if we’re quick.”

Dot wasn’t listening. “I’m not sure I like this,” she muttered.

“…Dottie?”

“Miss Fisher and the inspector… lodging together.” Hugh blinked. “Well, at least they’re going to be staying with Miss Fisher’s family,” Dot continued, sounding rather as though she was trying to console herself, “and a man of the cloth, at that. Even,” she added, “if he is a Protestant.”

“…Dottie, wh… what are you talking about?”

She looked at him in surprise. “Miss Fisher and Inspector Robinson, of course.” Hugh shook his head in confusion. “You haven’t noticed anything… different… about the inspector?”

“Different?” He thought hard for a minute or two. “No, not really.”

Dot seemed unconvinced. “But doesn’t it, well, bother you? The idea of them staying in the same house? Overnight?”

“But that’s—I…” Hugh hesitated. “I don’t see why that would matter?”

“Hugh!” Dot’s exclamation was half laughter and half horror. “Because they’re sweet on each other!”

“What? Oh, no, Dottie, that’s…” Hugh shook his head firmly. “Not a bit of it. The inspector wouldn’t do a thing like that.”

“A thing like what?”

“Like falling for a wom…” It occurred to Hugh, almost too late, that Dottie wouldn’t take kindly to her employer being described as ‘a woman like that’, even if all he meant was ‘a modern woman’ and not ‘a woman of loose morals’. “For Miss Fisher,” he amended quickly, tensing in case Dottie noticed what he had almost said. “That’s just not professional.”

“And falling for a potential murder suspect was?” Dottie replied, motioning to herself with a little smile. 

“But you were—but that’s not… huh.” Hugh drummed his fingers on the desk. “I still think you’re imagining it.”

“And I think you must be deaf, dumb, and blind, Hugh Collins, if you can’t see that your boss is crazy about mine, and vice versa! Haven’t you ever noticed the way Inspector Robinson looks at her whenever she’s about?” Dottie widened her eyes at her clueless beau. “To say nothing about how Miss Fisher looks at him.”

“Well, I…” Hugh cleared his throat and tried to sound less like a squeaking tyre. “Dottie, I’m afraid I just don’t pay much attention to Miss Fisher, when you’re around.”

That put a sparkle in Dottie’s eyes, he was glad to see, even if her next words nearly squelched his ego something fierce. “Well, you should,” she said sternly. “I’ve learned an awful lot about observation from Miss Fisher, more than you’d think, and when I tell you that Miss Fisher and Inspector Robinson are completely gaga about each other, you’d just better believe it!”

Hugh hid a grin. He couldn’t help it. He loved the way Dottie looked and sounded when she got excited about something, even if it was telling him that he was a blind idiot. If that was the price he had to pay for pursuing a modern woman… well, maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea, after all. “I still think you’re seeing something that’s not there, Dottie,” he said, but with such fondness that she (hopefully) couldn’t be annoyed. “But—I trust your observational skills.”

Dot stood up very straight. “Thank you, Hugh.”

“So.” He came around the desk and gave her a peck on the cheek. “Since I’m a good cop who always follows orders, let’s go to the pictures. And maybe you can teach me some of what you learned from Miss Fisher.”

“I can see I’m going to have to.” Dottie grinned up at him, rather cheekily. “Because I’m relying on you to bring me all the news about what the inspector and Miss Fisher get up to when I’m not around, and you can’t do that if you don’t notice what’s right under your nose!”


End file.
